I felt like I hadn’t done my job. I felt like I hadn’t convinced that jury of anything but Star’s guilt. I felt as if I had done Star an injustice, and felt as defeated as she looked when she walked out of the courtroom.
“You okay?”
Amiel’s voice startled me, so I jumped in fear. As he stood in the doorway, we locked eyes. The genuine concern in his eyes opened the floodgates and I began to cry, though silently to keep from waking Ariana. I sat on a chair across from his bed and buried my face in my hands. Life was coming down on me and spilling out of me in salty confessions.
I was tired of carrying around my bullshit and the burdens of others; tired of living life uncertainly. The past two months were exhausting and I was ready for it to all come to a conclusion.
Sure, I felt as if I fucked up at trial today, so that was probably why I was so ready to wash my hands of any and everything, but I was indeed tired of waiting, wishing, and praying. I just wanted peace to be still.
“What’s wrong?”
Amiel was kneeling in front of me with his hands on my thighs. His caring approach caught me off guard. He hadn’t been this nice to me in weeks.
“I just have a lot on my mind,” I answered as I wiped my face and attempted to calm down.
I failed to mention to Amiel that my sister was locked up. I didn’t feel that it was necessary that I share that with someone who hadn’t been in my life in years, even if that someone was my daughter’s father.
Amiel and I no longer had that connection, so he didn’t need to know all of my details.
“If he ain’t treatin’ you right, come home.”
It took me a minute to digest what he’d said. And when I did, I was brought back to reality, realizing that I had put myself in a vulnerable position with someone who I shouldn’t be in vulnerable positions with.
I managed to chuckle as I asked, “What?”
“I’m just sayin’. You shouldn’t be with him anyway. You belong here with me.”
I was flabbergasted. I was shocked and just knew that I was being punked.
I anxiously waited for Ashton Kutcher to jump out of the closet with a camera crew.
“I belong here?”
He answered, “Yes”, like I was silly not to think so.
“Amiel, are you serious?! We’ve been fighting like cats and dogs for weeks, and now all of a sudden I belong here with you? Have you lost your mind?”
“No, I lost my woman, and I want her back.”
I couldn’t believe it and stood up in confusion. “So is that why you’ve been threatening me with lawyers and custody? Because you want me back?”
“No, but everybody can have what they want if you just come back.”
Before I knew it, I had quickly scooped Ariana into my arms and walked out.
Just walked right out of his bedroom. I thought, maybe if I left that room, I would be out of the Twilight Zone.
Yet, Amiel was right behind me, on my heels pleading his case. “Tricey, I love you, baby.”
I spoke with my hands in the air in resistance and shaking my head in utter confusion. “I’m not going there.”
“You love that nigga that much?”
He had the audacity to look me in the eyes cynically, as if I didn’t have the nerve to declare my love for another man to his face, as if these past few weeks had all been a game, and I was really in love with him and making him chase me.
But as I put my hands on the door knob and told him, “Hell yes, I do”, the conniving smirk washed off his face and his chocolate skin turned red with rage.
As I slammed the door behind myself, I thought maybe I should have been a little kinder with Amiel’s feelings. Then I remembered how he didn’t give a shit about mine, and the doubt quickly left my body.
Thirteen
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
VICTORIA
“Vic, what the fuck is this?!”
I was still asleep when Vince’s barking voice woke me up out my temporary coma.
If his yelling wasn’t enough to wake me up, the lights in my bedroom suddenly coming on definitely did the trick.
“Vince!” I shrieked as I shielded my eyes.
I fought for my eyes to adjust to the light as he continued to yell at me. “Get the fuck up, Vic! What are you doing with this shit?!”
I sat up and was finally able to focus. Vince was in front of the bed dressed in full running gear. He usually got up two hours before me so that he could get his morning run in. He was sweating profusely, but something told me that it was more than the heat and run that was making him so hot that he was perspiring fire.
In his hands was my gym bag, but most detrimental was the ounces that I stole from Derrick that spilled out of it as Vince swung it back and forth.
My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t say or do anything, but bury my face in my hands.
“Vic, what the fuck really happened the other night?!”
I was stuck while trying to think very fast.
I managed to talk my way out of my disappearing act last week. I told Vince that I had been pulled over after leaving Tricey’s condo, taken to the station, and questioned about Blood. It was somewhat the truth, so I felt better giving Vince that explanation. He believed me, considering that he knows Blood’s life, but there has been a smidge of doubt on the surface of this relationship ever since.
“Are you selling this shit for Blood?!”
Before thinking, I answered, “Hell no!”
“Then why do you have it?!”
I was scared that he was going to wake DeSire and scare her, so I got out of the bed, stood in front of him, and reached out to touch him, thinking that I could calm him down.
But there was no use. He smacked my arms away from him so aggressively that my wrists stung with pain from the contact.
Vince’s eyes burned into mine. He was waiting for an answer. He looked as if he already knew the answer to his question and was saddened by the realization.
As he spoke, I could see that he was fighting back tears. “What are you doing with this?”
I was tongue-tied. I didn’t know what lie to come up with that would make sense and keep him from getting further upset with me.
As I stood in front of him, stuck and tongue-tied, he walked away with the bag in his hand.
I was on his heels as he left the bedroom and walked towards the bathroom.
I panicked as he lifted the toilet seat and attempted to take one of the ounces from the gym bag.
“No, Vince!”
With little effort, he was able to push me away with one arm and tear one of the ounces open with his teeth. As the contents poured from the bag and into the toilet, I began to cry. Vince saw my tears and got angrier. He looked at me like I was an idiot and had totally lost my mind.
“What’s wrong, Vic?! Why can’t I flush this shit?! Huh?! Why can’t I flush this shit?!”
“It’s not yours!!”
“THEN WHOSE IS IT?!”
He reached for another ounce and I attacked him. I pushed him away from the toilet and caused us to fall on the floor in the bathroom, taking toiletries from the sink along with us and causing a crashing sound.
“Vic, get off me! What is wrong with you?!”
I realized how I had reacted, what I had done, so quickly jumped to my feet. The addict within me made sure that I grabbed the gym bag before storming out of the bathroom. However, this time Vince was on my heels; tugging at the bag by its handle. We played tug of war. I was guarding that bag like I would guard my child.
He wouldn’t let it go. He just wouldn’t give up. He was being the typical Vince, trying to save and shield me, and being persistent in his quest.
So, I smacked him. I smacked him so hard that my hand burned. Vince stood shocked and appalled. We looked at each other and we knew. I knew that he knew and he knew that I knew that he knew.
“I’m outta here.”
He walked out of the hallway and i
nto the dining area, towards the front door, and I chased him.
“Where are you going?!”
I could hear DeSire making noise in her room, so I knew we woke her up, but my focus went from guarding my “happiness” to preserving my real happiness.
“Fuck you, Vic.”
“Fuck me?!”
“I’m done!”
He reached for the door knob and I attacked him, only this time with tender touches to keep him here.
“Vic, get off me!”
“Vince, please don’t leave,” I cried.
“I’m done, Vic,” was all he said as he attempted to open the door.
I reached for him again, wrapped my arms around his neck to embrace him. I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t say anything else, because it meant admitting my habit, and though he knew, I could never say the words out loud. By the look on his face, there wasn’t anything I could say to stop him anyway. He was disgusted and fed up.
“Vince, please! Please don’t leave me.”
He didn’t respond. He only continued to struggle to unwrap my hands from around him.
“Get off me!”
But I stayed put, as if my touch would convince him to stay. We struggled, me to keep him here and him to get me the hell up off of him. Finally, he pushed me with so much force that the shock caused me to stumble. I tripped over my own feet and fell to the ground. I could hear DeSire crying from close by, as if she was standing in a corner in the room watching, crying, and calling for me.
Yet, I went towards Vince as he opened the door. I couldn’t stand up quick enough; everything had taken so much energy out of me. So, I simply grabbed on to his pant leg as I cried hysterically. I knew that if he left, that was it, because there was no turning back from this. His eyes told me that this was something that he couldn’t believe and that he refused to deal with.
He had put up with so much from me; literally attempting to raise me into being a better woman. But this, this was something that we could never come back from. And I knew this as he kicked his foot to release my grip and literally ran out of the door, away from me, and away from my grasp.
He slammed the door behind himself, and I knew.
TRICEY
Roxie looked different.
She looked tired, worn out, and defeated.
As she approached the witness stand, she avoided Star’s eyes, eyes that burned into hers with anger and rage.
This is what we had been waiting for; Roxie’s testimony. We anxiously waited to see if she would be honest about the drugs she put in Star’s car and how much Star knew of the robbery, if anything.
Mr. Reed told me that, instead of taking her chances with a jury, Roxie plead out to ten years in prison; five years less than my sister; five years less, when she was the manipulative and conniving one.
It just wasn’t fair.
“Ms. Carr, can you state your relationship with Ms. Anderson for the jury?”
Roxie answered the State’s Attorney nonchalantly. “We were friends, but we basically worked together.”
“Worked together how?”
“Escorting, running scams on guys- stuff like that.”
It was like the entire room gasped silently.
The way Roxie spoke so effortlessly of her indiscretions was sickening. It was like she didn’t give a shit about the scandalous stuff she’d been involved in, and she was all too willing to admit Star’s involvement as well.
“Running what kind of scams?”
The room was spinning before my eyes, and I could have sworn I was going to faint. This woman looked all too eager to reverse the picture of my sister that Mr. Reed had attempted to paint. We wanted to make sure that the jury saw that my sister was an honest woman that just made a few mistakes, but Roxie sat up there, looking calculating and caulis, admitting that my sister was her partner in crime.
“Well, Benz and Scoop would get stolen credit card numbers and me and Star would buy stuff and sell it for half the price.”
With that, the State’s Attorney gave the jury an advert stare, telling them to absorb this damaging evidence against my sister.
“And what other kind of scams did you run?”
“Benz and Scoop would introduce us to men. We would get to know them and the layouts of their homes so that Benz and Scoop could rob them.”
I thanked God that I was able to talk my mother out of coming to court with me that day. She wouldn’t be able to take this, and, as I sat next to Lyric, with her arm supportively around me, I couldn’t take it either.
“Was this the plan when the defendant met DeShawn?”
Very quickly and confidently, Roxie answered, “Yes.”
Though Star didn’t make a move during Roxie’s testimony, I wished that I could be sitting next to her, embracing and supporting her, because I know she needed it.
Roxie and the State’s Attorney continued for nearly an hour; digging my sister’s hole deeper and deeper with details of how DeShawn and Star’s relationship was a complete scam on Star’s part. She gave detailed testimony of discussions she, Star, Benz, and Scoop had about how Star should get DeShawn to trust him, when to rob him, and how much money he had.
The whole damn thing was so destructive. I watched that jury listen to Roxie and become more and more disgusted with both her and Star; giving them both disapproving and chastising looks.
When Mr. Reed stood to examine Roxie, I couldn’t imagine what he could say to help Star at this point.
He stood in front of Roxie seemingly attempting to do just that; think of the perfect thing to ask to make Roxie admit Star’s innocence.
“You admit that the drugs found in Star’s car were yours. Isn’t that why you received a deal?”
With her nose turned up, Roxie answered. “Yea.”
“So you admit that when you and Ms. Anderson were pulled over and taken out of her vehicle, you fled and allowed her to take the rap for drugs that you put in her car, unbeknownst to her?”
“Yes, I admit that, but she knew about that robbery!”
The judge banged his gavel, controlling Roxie.
“But did she want it to happen, Ms. Carr? At that final moment, was Ms. Anderson a willing participant, or was she torn between her loyalty to you and her feelings for DeShawn?”
Roxie seemed to be transfixed on Star, and, even though her back was to me, I can imagine that Star’s eyes were burning into Roxie’s, begging her to have some decency and to be honest.
With a sigh, Roxie replied, “She liked DeShawn. She was softening up, and I knew that. If she had a choice, she wouldn’t have gone through with it.”
I was able to exhale as Mr. Reed rested. I prayed to God that the jury heard that and was able to see my sister’s struggle.
“Permission to redirect, Your Honor?”
I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know what the fuck else the State’s Attorney had to prove.
With permission, she began to re-examine Roxie. “But she had a choice, Ms. Carr. When you all learned of Timothy’s murder, did Star express that she wanted to go to the police? Did she make any effort to right this mistake?”
“No,” Roxie answered with a twerk of her lips. “She moved across town and hoped it would go away, just like the rest of us.”
LYRIC
For the last week and a half, my aunt’s words had been haunting me.
The fact that I was currently going through so much with James made the affect of our conversation worse. It had now been a month since I spoke to James. He was still calling, but the calls were becoming few and far between.
The moment I was ready to call him, Raven would post some bullshit subliminal message regarding him, and I would change my mind.
Sitting in court with Tricey made things even worse. I left that courthouse desperately missing the love of someone that had ties to me, rather biologically or emotionally.
Seeing Tricey’s undying devotion to her sister made me realize that I didn’t have that biol
ogical connection with anyone. I just wanted love in my life at that moment, no matter who it was from, so I made my way to my aunt’s house.
I hadn’t seen my father in nearly four years and my mother in six years. There had been very volatile conversations between me and my mother here and there; the last one being two years ago. They knew nothing about me; knew nothing of my engagement, had never met Bradley, knew nothing of my bisexuality- they didn’t know me.
It had been so long since I’ve seen them, so you would think that when I walked through the door of my aunt’s home, there would have been tears, smiles, and hugs. Yet, there wasn’t. My parents sat in the living room looking uncomfortable, full of tension, and still high. There was nothing in the air; no happiness or sighs of relief. In the air was only the smell of an old person’s home; a mixture of the aromas of nasty food, ointments, and disgusting perfume.
My aunt noticed the tension, and, instead of staying in the room to support this moment that she forced down my throat, she excused herself.
Though they are my parents- the ones that should be older and wiser- I decided to be the bigger person and make this time, though I decided as soon as I got there that it wouldn’t be much time, as bearable and pleasing as possible for all of us.
“Hey, Mama. Hi, Daddy.” Despite the fact that it made my skin crawl to even call them that, I smiled as I spoke and embraced them as they sat stuck, like they didn’t know what the hell to do.
I decided to forget for a few moments that their addictions ruined my childhood and had affected me in ways that only a therapist would be able to tell me. I decided to let go of my grudge against them temporarily and just be their daughter for a little while.
“How have you all been?”
And they talked to me as if they raised me right, with no addictions or habits that caused havoc on our relationship over the years. They told me how their health has been, certain ailments continuing to fail while others were getting better. They told me how different family members were doing and how I should come around more often.
They spoke to me like parents. They spoke to me like they didn’t spend my entire childhood more committed to themselves and to being drunken drug addicts than being parents to me.
Good Girls Ain't No Fun Boxed Set (The SIX romance and urban fiction volumes of the LOVE, SEX, LIES series) Page 79